


Variance

by orphan_account



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Crush, M/M, unrequited (so far)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-25 21:41:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4977559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kuroo's always been aware of how crucial Kenma was to his life - his childhood filled with the most fantastic memories, as well as his gratifying present has the blonde's name written all over it. However, did he really understand the extent of how much Kenma meant to him? After a disquieting nightmare about losing him, Kuroo is seized by the revelation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first ever fanfiction I've ever posted on AO3, I hope you guys like it! Do leave a comment if you liked it, or if you didn't like it - so I'll know what to write from here on forth. :)

The human mind knows no boundaries when it comes to the ideation of desirable scenarios, and oddly enough, these scenarios often intrude our thoughts whilst most of our conscious self is lost in a deep slumber. On that account, Kuroo hadn’t the slightest clue as to why he woke up at 2:47am in tears - tears that seemed to have strewn down his cheeks for a diffusive amount of time - from a dreadful dream he’d had about a certain half-blonde wallflower.

"What the..." Perplexed, he rubbed at his misty eyes and unlocked his phone to send a message to his teammate. There’s no way he’d be asleep right now, anyway. He just bought a new game last Saturday.
    
    
    –Oi.

It wasn’t the best form of checking if your best friend was alive and well, but it sufficed, as Kuroo heaved a sigh at the sounding of his tacky message tone.
    
    
    ?

Now, to think of how to make texting someone at 2:50am not awkward.
    
    
    –How’s Dragon Era...Institution...? 
    
    
    Dragon Age, Inquisition.
    
    
    –Right. How’s that thing?
    
    
    Fine. Is there something you wanted to talk about?

Well, shit.
    
    
    –Not really, just bored I guess. I'm feeling kind of tired now, so I'm going to sleep. Nights.
    
    
    Lol, nights.

And so, the raven-haired boy tossed and turned his way back into slumberland, this time, without having to sit up abruptly with dampened cheeks.

The following day, Kuroo found himself pausing in his footsteps outside of Kenma’s classroom on the way to his own. He had the resolved inclination to check on Kenma to see if the boy were really in one piece, and not on some hard cement floor—

“Kuroo.“ A menacing voice resounded behind him. The captain cocked his head to the side to notice his mohawk-wearing junior, Yamamoto, taking long, steadfast strides towards him. If he hadn’t known better, Kuroo might’ve mistaken him for a city delinquent readying himself to swing at anyone in his way. Despite this, Kuroo felt a little uneasy at his junior’s ominous glare, and felt like asking what business Yamamoto had with him, but before he could do so, the latter snapped, “Oi, what do you think you’re doing coming down to the second years’ classrooms? You’ve got some nerve to come when all these cute chicks are around. Dammit, they’re all gazing at you!” Kuroo hadn’t paid attention to his surroundings, but upon glancing up to confirm his juniors’ words, he realised he had garnered the enamouring attention of at least half of the second years hanging by the corridors.

“Ah, my bad,” Kuroo replied with a shrug, besides, he didn’t have the slightest speck of interest in them, “Is Kenma around?” Kuroo thought he saw a vein pop out of Yamamoto’s forehead as he uttered, “People like you don’t deserve such a spotlight…” The mohawk-head, as if snapping out of a trance, then proceeded to reply his senior’s question, “Kenma? I don’t think I’ve seen him around today - probably overslept.” Kuroo felt a lump form in his throat as he nodded in acknowledgement, then proceeded to pace towards his classroom. Kuroo was worried,  _very_  worried about his best friend, and he was lucky that his permanent bed head managed to hide some of the beads of cold sweat that formed on his forehead, otherwise it would’ve looked like the raven-haired boy were running an incredulously high fever. Upon making sure no persons of authority were present, he whipped out his cellphone and began typing.
    
    
    –Kenma, did you oversleep?

The raven-haired boy didn’t expect an immediate reply, or rather, shouldn’t expect one - but the panic was _killing_  him, especially since Kuroo had never been one to be too concerned about things. He tried to assure himself that Kenma was soundly asleep in his tiny bedroom, besides, he had been just fine last night at three in the morning, playing that weird game about dragons. There’s no way that the blonde could’ve gotten himself into a perilous situation in just four hours, right…?

Before the sinking pit of distress in his stomach could consume him as a whole, Kuroo felt a small pulse in his pocket. Practically swooping into his pocket for his phone, dark irises softened at the one-word reply.
    
    
    Sick.

The raven-haired boy exhaled deeply, it felt like the weight of a giant boulder had been alleviated off of his shoulders.
    
    
    –That's kinda what you get when you stay up so late.
    
    
    You're no better.
    
    
    –But I'm still in school, aren't I?
    
    
    ...

The dark-haired teen chuckled at the reply, then slipped his cellphone back into his pocket. He made a mental note to stop by Kenma’s house before heading home in the afternoon.

The tasteless melody of the school bell rang, signalling the end of school for the day. “Thank God”, Kuroo sighed to himself. Fortunately, there wasn’t any volleyball training that day, for the teachers-in-charge weren’t free to supervise practice. This meant Kuroo would be able to make his way to the introvert’s house without having to rush back within less than an hour, which of course, would mean the world to the dark-haired boy. He wasn’t particularly certain as to why, but he wanted to spend as much time as he could with Kenma. With that thought in mind, he stuffed unneeded textbooks and materials into his locker, then quickly headed out of the school gates alone.

 _Alone_ , huh. The ravenhead wasn’t familiar with the word, he’d never, or hardly had instances where he felt like he’d been abandoned or needed someone. Kuroo had thought it was mostly because he’s had a liveable household all his life and was never left to fend for himself, but he realised some time ago that it wasn’t necessarily the case. Ever since his younger, more innocent days, he’s always had a little boy, one much shorter than he, following him around. Be it whether he’d have to drag the boy out of his room, or on good days where the boy would tag along on his own accord, Kuroo could always glance behind him and see earnest golden eyes staring back. He never considered how much of his life had been shaped by those pair of eyes, how lonely his life would’ve been if it weren’t for them, until recently. 

The nightmare made him realize just how terribly huge of a deal Kenma was to him - though the memories of his nightmare weren't as vivid as they had been some hours ago, he remembered the chills shooting down his spine as he looked upon the deluding sight of the blonde's body sprawled motionless on the cold ground, and he could remember how it physically hurt as he yelled in his dream for God knows what, shaking uncontrollably as he looked at the lifeless body. 

He knew life would be difficult without Kenma, sure, but it wasn't till then that he realized that life wouldn't just be difficult, it would be awful, depressing and downright _empty_ without hearing the occasional static from the boy's playstation, or without being able to stand on the court and play volleyball with him. But most of all, it hurt the most that being _alone_ would no longer be an uncommon occurrence. 

The boy pondered about how meaningless existence itself would be if he couldn't walk it through alongside Kenma, and it made him wonder - what exactly was the blonde to him? He's always looked upon the younger boy as a tremendous part of his childhood and a treasured companion, one of the few that he could share comfortable bouts of silence with (probably the only one, now that he's thought of it). Yet, the thought of seeing the wallflower as something dearer than a friend - it intrigued him, to say the least. "So I might have a crush on Kenma, so what?" he thought out loud, a terrible habit he had to kick someday, for it earned him some rather unfriendly stares from anyone within a meter's radius. 

But of course, Kenma was  _never_  to know of this. What would he think, knowing that his childhood friend could maybe, possibly, probably have a thing for him - was what Kuroo managed to keep to himself as he rapped on the oak door of the Kouzume residence.

It opened with a tiny squeak, and a petite lady with greying hair was on the other side of the agape door. The raven-haired teenager greeted her merrily, “Mrs Kouzume!” The woman gave him a once-over before affectionately replying, “My my, Tetsurou, have you grown since I last saw you? What a charming young man you’ve become!” Kuroo chuckled at the remark, then proceeded to ask if he could see Kenma in his room. The lady nodded, and gestured for the ravenhead to help her bring a bowl of chicken soup to him.

Kuroo held onto the bowl with one hand and reached out to knock on the door of Kenma’s bedroom with the other, in contrast to how the third-year would usually swing the door open with little regard as to how chipped the other side of the door must’ve been after all these years. “I’m coming in,” Kuroo notified as he turned the door knob and entered, “Rise and shine,“

But of course, Kenma had been awake all this time, and glued to his game. The sight was almost enough to make Kuroo crack up — the half-blonde boy was sitting in his futon with covers draped impossibly high over his head, tissues stuck up his nose so as to not let his running nose get in the way of his gameplay, and eyes half-lidded, blinking every so often that it was a miracle that Kenma was conscious at all. In fact, it seemed like the blonde was too preoccupied with staying awake that he hadn’t even noticed the presence of his friend. After setting down the bowl on a desk, Kuroo crept behind him and broke the silence, “Yo.”

The blonde did a double take and almost fell off his own futon, covers and all, all the while protectively clasping his playstation portable in his hands. The older of the two cackled in response, earning a death-like glare from the other.

After settling Kenma down with chicken soup, Kuroo felt the urge to chide him a bit, “You shouldn’t stay up so late all the time, it’s bad for you, y'know.” The blonde solemnly dipped his head in response as he quietly drank his soup. Kuroo aimlessly surveyed the features of Kenma’s face, the darkened rings around his puffy ember eyes indicating his severe sleep depravity, the redness of his nose from the boy’s negligence of his own illness, and how in spite of all that, the black-haired teen still managed to find the boy sitting in front of him so awfully alluring.

Late to discern that he’d been staring, the deadpan blonde spoke up in a throaty voice, “Is something the matter?” Immediately snapping out of his rapture, Kuroo cleared his throat and tried to find substance in looking at the ground, “No, it’s nothing,” Mustering the conviction to push hopelessly wistful thoughts away, he nagged again, “You haven’t slept a wink for days, have you? I demand that you put your head down and sleep immediately.”

Kenma’s whole body was screaming for rest, but something within him still managed to lament, “But I’m so close to finishing Inquisition…” It might’ve slipped the eye of anyone else, but Kuroo saw the slight jutting out of the blonde’s lower lip.  _Holy shit, cute._  was what crossed his mind, but God forbid it crossed his lips.

“…Sorry?”

_Oh my God._


	2. Forbearance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo Tetsurou is simply terrible at keeping his thoughts to himself, and it lands him in a rather disconcerting plight. But he manages to shrug it off, for now. Problem child Kenma finally goes to sleep after finishing DA:I, and Kuroo is left to bask in the sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I take way too long to come up with a second chapter? 
> 
>  
> 
> Yes, yes I did.

"...Sorry?"

Kuroo had just blighted half of his dignity with the utterance of all but one syllable, a chaste remark at how the blonde looked no less than entrancingly charming in spite of his fatigue. The raven-haired teenager, whose face was flushing a glaring red, wanted to excuse himself from Kenma's room and never return; but he at least had to salvage this, somehow. Willing himself to take a deep breath and actually think before speaking, he managed to muster the most placid tone of voice when he spoke,

"What?"

He had really outdone himself, and cursed internally as he desperately sought for a decent excuse as to why he would say such a thing.

"Oh, I uh—I was thinking about a girl from my class, sorry. She does that an awful lot, and the guys all think it's cute."

The blonde didn't look quite convinced, but he was far too drowsy to bother questioning his friend. His eyes fell back to the screen of his Playstation, fingers tapping on the device's keys like he'd been familiar with the buttons for years, which he had. Kenma's discontinuance of the topic comforted the older boy, and he caught himself before he could audibly sigh. He was relieved that Kenma didn't pursue the matter, but that didn't stop the rapid beating in his chest. He lifted a hand up to his chest in an attempt to steady his racing heart, and his mind drifted off to wonder when did he last feel this way, where he could so easily lose his composure around someone, yet at the same time, feel like he were truly himself around them.

Since when did Kuroo even not feel like himself, anyway? He was always okay with exhibiting his loud, caustic nature around anyone and everyone he meets, and never bothered hiding how much he cared about the people he surrounded himself with, even if it isn't noticeable. Yet, there was so much more to him, so many sides that only the red-nosed blonde (who was far too invested in his game) knew about him.

The dark-haired teenager gazed at his best friend earnestly, the wallflower he had grown up with, whom had always stood by him since they were kids. Never one without the other, their parents often compared them to chopsticks—a pair that would not know their individual purposes if ever apart. For the most part, this was true. Kuroo often wondered how in the world he could get by if Kenma weren't around, how would he even carry forward with his life?

Suddenly, the recollections of his tormenting nightmare came flooding back, and he was instantaneously consumed by the waves of anguish that crashed upon him. He silently fought back droplets threatening to trickle and spill, hurriedly raising a hand to rub away what he couldn't keep in. It almost physically ached, just thinking about the dreadful ordeal. How would he even _survive_ without Kenma, would he even be able to accept that his treasured friend were gone?

As if dispelling the apprehension that was brewing inside him, the blonde boy sitting cross-legged in his futon yawned lazily, not minding to cover his mouth like he usually did. Urging himself upright, Kuroo asked, "You done with that game?" To which Kenma responded to by wearily declining his head, imitating a nod. The ends of the ravenhead's lips tugged upwards, "Then tuck yourself in, and finally go to sleep. Sheesh." 

Unbeknownst to him, the boy he were speaking to had already flopped himself onto his futon, and Kuroo could've sworn he heard the tiniest of snores laced with his breaths. The third year's smile grew brighter, eyes softening as he took in the sight. The wallflower's expression was serene, eyelashes in stark contrast to his pale skin, his chapped pink lips slightly ajar. It took every fibre in the onlooking boy to not reach out and stroke his lovely face. Kenma looked almost celestial in the eyes of the dark-haired teen, and perhaps he was—maybe he were an angel that serendipity brought to Kuroo's side. To Kuroo, it certainly seemed so, and he couldn't have been more blessed.

It might not have been evident before, but now Kuroo was more convinced than ever.

His heart belonged to the shorter blonde snoring softly before him, it always had.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise the next update will be soon, I REALLY promise. And thank you so much for the kudos, it makes my heart flutter every time I see a new hit like wow you read my sappy garbage I'm :'D


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